


Nothing Feels Better

by Monochromehobo



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-13 13:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18942373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monochromehobo/pseuds/Monochromehobo
Summary: 10k is injured and wakes up in possibly the best situation he could.Anon on Tumblr requested reader nursing 10k back to health with a bittersweet ending. Takes places in S3.





	Nothing Feels Better

She’d found him in a field. His legs were splayed out as if he had just fallen mid run, face gaunt and sallow. Hair stark black against his sweaty forehead. His black boots lacked scuffs, and his clothes appeared to be strangely pressed. The only imperfection in his clothes was the syringe sticking out from his thigh. 

“Hey!” she yelled, inching closer to him, clenching her knife. After a few more attempts to rouse him, she kicked him in the side. No movement. Bending down to take his pulse, she patted him down, taking a surprising amount of weapons off of him. Every detail about him made the situation stranger yet, every surreal bit of information screamed danger. The pulse was slow but it was there. She thought she really should just leave him, it's not her problem. She sucked in a deep breathe, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

 

Against her better judgment she had shouldered the strange boy and brought him back to her home. A monumentally bad decision. Just as regret started to sink in his eyes lids lifted heavily, taking long slow blinks. 

10k came to, Surrounded by the warm glow of a lamp, he moved to get up but his hands had been tied to the arm rests of the sofa he was laying on. 10k glanced around frantically, the situation didn’t read like Murphy and he didn’t know which was worse, being brought back to Spokane or being caught by some unknown group. 

A glass of water was placed on the coffee table in front of him by a younger woman, her expression read somewhere between soft and stern. “Don’t even bother looking for your weapons. I took all of them. Even the chains you were hiding in your socks,” 10k rubbed his ankles together subconsciously as she spoke. “You’re lucky I found you; the Z’s are real active out in that field at night,” she nodded towards the window where the sun was nearly set over a large lot of tall grass. “So are you going to start talking or what?” she grew irritated by his lack of response, picking up the the cup and holding it just out of his reach, “If you want the water you’ve gotta tell me what you were up to out there.”

10k looked back and forth between her and the glass debating on if he should tell the truth. “I was part of a group,” He paused, carefully calculating what he would say next, “We didn’t exactly see eye to eye. I’m... running from them. When I left I took some things that they need.” 

“Those green syringes?” 

He nodded. “It’s,” he took another long pause, scanning her face for any sign of disbelief, “It’s experimental. Drugs.” This explanation seemed to satisfy her, because she tipped the cup to his lips letting lukewarm water wash into his mouth. All he could taste was iron. 

“I’m going to untie you. Don't try anything,” He gave her a nod, letting the rope be removed without a fight. He sat up rubbing his wrists. “I’m (Y/N).”

“10,000.”

“What?”

“10,000. That’s my name,” She gave him an incredulous look, before sitting across from him.

“Well, 10,000,” She had a lilt to her voice when she addressed him, like she was holding back a laugh, “I’ve got food to share. You’re looking a little worse for wear. Of course you’ll need to pull your weight once you’re feeling better.”

(Y/N) walked to the kitchen, keeping an eye on him. She pulled the lid off of a can of soup. Setting it on the coffee table with a thud. Going around, pulling the blinds shut on the windows, she felt the questions coming. “I’ve been living her for about 3 months. It’s not much, but the town turned early so there’s plenty of food left for at least two years.”

“Where exactly are we?” 

“A little bit south of Dayton, Washington. I’m not originally from here,” she stopped for a long while, everybody knew that look when someone thought about their pre-Z lives, and it brought a twinge of sadness to 10k. “I guess you could say I’m a long way from home,” She let out a soft sigh, “But I make do here. You’re the first person I’ve seen in a long while.”

“Aren’t we all though?” 10k finished off his cup of water, “A long way from home.”

“Where’s your home?”

“New York. But I make do.”

“Wow. You really are a long way from home,” (Y/N) could not believe she was having this conversation with somebody who she found in a field. Every sentence felt clunky and awkward, the regret beginning to set in again. She finished securing the living room before turning to move towards her bedroom. “Help yourself to the water and food.”

10k waited for the sound of the bedroom door closing and two heavy locks to begin shoveling food into his mouth. He sat back, taking in the immense amount of pain he was in. He looked around for any sign of his weapons, gently opening cabinets and looking on shelves only to come up empty handed. He admired the foresight, even through the inconvenience. He briefly thought about leaving, but decided against it. He had no weapons and no idea where he was. 10k turned off the lamp and laid on couch, feet twittering as he traced the cracked lines in the ceiling. 

 

 

(Y/N) stood in front of her closet, briefly considering giving the boy back his weapons before deciding against it and sliding the door closed. She leaned against the door, fiddling with the deadbolt. Breathing deeply, she hoped she’d miraculously gain the courage to go out there. She couldn’t tell if she wanted him to still be there or not. Either way staying in the bedroom forever was not an option.

The locks clicked and she gripped her knife for comfort as she made her way back to the living room. 10,000 was awake already spinning a coin on the coffee table. She smiled tucking away the knife, in favor of crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I have books you know. You don’t have to play with coins for entertainment.” He smiled in response, keeping his eyes trained on the coin. His eyes were still sunken and the way he moved was like all his joints had rusted overnight, but his spirits seemed well enough. (Y/N) went to the cupboard to pick up some pain killers and fill a glass of water. It seemed that 10k could clean up after himself; the can was gone and the water glass was back in the cupboard. 

10k looked up as (Y/N) slid a glass of water to him and placed two round orange pills in his hand. “Ibuprofen,” She said, “It’s not much, but it will help.” He gave an appreciative nod, tipping his head back and dry swallowing the pills before taking a sip of water. 

(Y/N) went about opening the blinds and looking out over the field, “See what I mean? There’s 6 of em out there just since last night.” She point out towards 6 small dots on the horizon. 

10k nodded, avoiding eye contact. She looked out the widow and 10k couldn’t help but stare. The pajamas encapsulated him. He hadn’t seen anyone wear anything but jeans and boots for years. He couldn’t imagine feeling that comfortable, or imagine wanting to be that vulnerable. There was a certain softness and comfort about it. Her exposed feet, small toes peeking out from soft pajama bottoms as she took her time looking out the window. 10k looked down at his own boots, he wondered if he still even remembered what his feet looked like with out layers of leather and steel tight laced up his ankles. 

Wordlessly she grabbed a book, curling up in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Maybe an hour had passed when 10k rose from the couch, motions slow and painful. (Y/N) made to get up, “You don’t have to get up. I can get you whatever you need.”

“It’s ok,” He nodded, encouraging her to sit back down. 

She watched him mill about the kitchen, she couldn’t help but be curious about him. Everything about him was strange, the way he spoke mostly in nods should be off putting, but something about the deep set blue eyes and sad expression made it oddly endearing. 

(Y/N) alternated between looking at her book and blatantly staring at 10,000. She heard the stove turn off, glancing back down towards her book when he turned around. It took her by surprise when he came to stand in front of her, a small plate of green beans and what appeared to be spam in each of his hands. She placed her book on the ground as they made eye contact. “Thank you.”

10k gave a small nod in response before returning to the couch. (Y/N) watched him pick up the spam with his fingers and chuckled before going into the kitchen to grab some forks. 

10k looked up, taking the fork from her, flushed with embarrassment. “Oh. Thanks.” He kept his eyes trained on the food as (Y/N) sat beside him on the couch. 

She put two more Ibuprofen in his hand and filled up his cup before going to bed that night. She was surprised to hear him say “Goodnight.” as she turned away. She smiled as she locked the deadbolts that night. Maybe it hadn’t been such a horrible idea to help him after all. 

 

Over the next week and a half 10k and (Y/N) found their groove. Relaxed mornings. Eating meals together. Finding something to occupy the time with in the evening. As he got better (Y/N) couldn’t help but find herself staring at him. His hair and his muscles and the layer of hair that had grown over his cheeks and chin. Sometimes he was already looking when she’d glance over. He seemed to grow more handsome and interesting every day. They’d finally worked their way up to having conversation on the 5th day, when they’d locked eyes accidentally and broke out into laughter. (Y/N) and 10k had planned to go into town tomorrow and gather some more supplies; having a second person around really cut into the supplies and 10k need more ibuprofen. 10k of course had long since gained his weapons back. 

10k sat on the floor legs splayed out as he bopped his head to the music coming in through the radio. Citizen Z played a few good songs once in awhile, always rock though. (Y/N) sat beside him handing him a second glass of wine. “You know you can change clothes right? I know I’ve said that before but I hope you feel comfortable enough with me by now to put something else on,” before 10k had a chance to respond she added, “Besides... you’re getting rather ripe.” They shared a laugh, locking eyes. 

“Yeah, uhm, Ok,” He cleared his throat as their eye locked, suddenly becoming awkward. “I’ll change.”

 

“I’ll just be in the living room, Ok?” 10k listened to her through the bathroom door. “I got you pajamas, because I remember you said how much you missed wearing pajamas and how strange you found it that first day.”

10k slid off his boots and socks first, wiggling his toes. It still felt so surreal to feel so normal. It was like he was pretending, like they were playing house in a little bubble. He knew it wouldn’t last though. 10k took a wet cloth and gently rubbed the dirt from his face and body. He pulled on the soft t-shirt and pajama pants, finally facing himself in the mirror. Now he looked the part too. His face looked softer than he can remember, his hair and beard were thick and he looked like maybe he could have just walked onto the wrong set, he was in a horror movie when he was supposed to be in a sitcom. He couldn’t stand to look any longer. The healthier he got the closer he came to leaving. To popping that bubble. 

He walked into the living room, doing a slow spin in front of (Y/N). She cheered and raised her wine glass in the air. 10k took his spot next to her again, laughing. He couldn’t help but linger a little too long on the curve of her neck and shoulders. She got up and walked over to a small table, 10k let his eyes drift downward while she walked, the sway of her hips was impossible to look away from, but that might have just been the wine making him bolder. She flipped the radio off, turning around with a small gray box in one hand and something hidden behind her back in the other. 

She took her spot beside him on the floor revealing a walkman from behind her back. “I usually save this for a special occasions, but,” She proceeded to put batteries into it before continuing, “I think that this is special enough.” She put headphones into it, cheap plastic earbuds but to them it might as well have been a live concert. 10k watched her thumb through the cassettes, her features softened by the lamp light. His thoughts swirled as he leaned in closer. She pulled out a tape with a blue cover, Elton John. He’d heard that name before, but he and Pa barely ever listened to music. She pushed play and soft music began to flow into his ear. 

10k took the tape case from her hand, his fingers gently brushing hers. The contact was shocking. She dreaded the day he would have to leave. She let her eyes wander, settling on his full lips as he mouthed the names of the songs to himself. 

He stopped for a moment on one of the tracks. “Tiny Dancer?” He let out a drunken giggle and she couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“Yeah. It’s good.” 

They sat swaying their heads to the music and pouring glasses of wine, giggling every time they locked eyes. Halfway through the tape they had drained the bottle dry and pushed the glasses aside. (Y/N) recognized the notes of Tiny Dancer, pulling 10k up with her, sliding the Walkman into his pocket. 

“I’ve never slow danced before.”

“It’s okay neither have I,” He meant it as a reassurance to her, but it came out as a faint whisper. His heart raced, hands shaking.

“We can figure it out,” She wrapped her arms around his neck and guided his hands to her waist. They rocked back and forth to the beat just enjoying touching another person. They danced until the tape stopped, and then some. 10k rested his cheek on her head as they swayed back and forth. He wanted to commit this moment to memory so he could replay it again and again once the bubble finally popped and the facade fell away. 

(Y/N) leaned into 10k the warmth of his chest felt nice in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Something in her wanted more than this, but if he had left and this is all they had it would be enough. She felt soft lips press against her head. She looked up meeting his eyes, pulling him into a crushing hug. 

That night he walked her to the bedroom, leaving her at the door before returning to the living room. 

“Goodnight.”

 

(Y/N) awoke to soft light streaming in through the window, and the smell of food. She walked out to see 10k on the couch, breakfast already on the coffee table. His mussed up hair went well with his pajamas, and she wished she could commit that sight to memory. She sat down beside him, wordlessly starting in on her own breakfast. 

“I’m going to leave tomorrow,” and the bubble was popped. Real life waited out there and he had to get back to Warren before he ran out of syringes. “I wish you could come with me.”

“I do too. You know I have to try to make it to Canada.”

“I Know.”

For the first time in two weeks the silence felt heavy, deafening. The pop of the bubble, the collapse of the fantasy that they will be able to continue living like this, be able to play a never ending game of house. 10k thought that this is what Doc must have meant when he said you could meet the right people at the wrong time. Or maybe this was just the right time. Either way he wished they had more of it.

 

10k and (Y/N) suited up and went into town. Stuffing bags full of food, water, and supplies. “Here. You’ll need this.” She pushed extra water into 10k’s bag, a look on her face that said it all. He gladly accepted the extra supplies. He wasn’t back to his full health and the walk into town definitely took more out of him than it should but he has to get on the road.

By the time they returned it was nearly night fall. The night was beautiful still and the air was warm. They dropped their bags and plopped onto the couch. (Y/N) pulled out the Walkman again and rewinded the tape. They sat on the couch in comfortable silence, enjoying the sunset through the window. The soft notes of Tiny dancer came on and (Y/N) began to mumble along. 

“Blue jean baby. L.A. Lady.” She faded off into a hum. 

10k looked at her, her face lit softly orange by the sunset. He had the urge to push the strands of hair from her face, and part of him wished that they were wearing pajamas and drinking wine. He lifted her chin so they could lock eyes. The slow leaning in until their lips met seemed like the longest few moments in his life. It seemed to happen in slow motion, all the details standing out, her lips, her eyelashes, the little fly away hairs around her face. 

She could have sworn she felt her heart beat out of her chest when they kissed. Every touch was amplified. He ran his fingers through her hair and it felt like sparks on her scalp. Her whole body felt warm. He deepened the kiss, running a hand along her back and down her arms. His one hand came to settle, at the base of her skull and the other on her hip and they kissed until long after the song had ended and the sun had set. 

“10k...”

“Tommy. You,” he paused, pushing aside strands of hair, “You can call me Tommy.”

“Tommy,” She leaned in and spoke so softly, “Sleep in my bed tonight. Please.”

He pulled back, giving a simple nod in response, leading her by the hand to the bedroom.

They changed into pajamas a slow make out in-between made the process long. They savored every moment they had, because the clock was running out. 10k laid beside her in the bed, taking in everything. They did everything but sleep. They laid for hours until the sun came up, talking, kissing, laying next to each other in silence, they laid in bed for hours on end, but not once did they sleep that night. 

And when the sun came up they knew it was time. He handed back the pajamas, only for her to say “keep em”. They shared one last hug, one last meal, and it was time. They stood on the porch, for a long time neither of them said anything. They just looked out across the field and at each other. She held his hands and looked him in the eyes, “Don’t look back when you leave okay? Just please don’t. It’ll only make it harder.

“I’m not sure if I can.”

“Try for me Ok?”

“Ok. Good luck (Y/N). Thank you.”

“Good luck 10,000. Thank you. For these two weeks, and for the memories.”

10k always hummed Tiny Dancer after that. He’d tap his fingers in the car to it and Doc would say “Didn’t know you were an Elton John fan, kid.”

“I’m not, I don't understand the lyrics at all. But I know somebody who does.”


End file.
